The Challenge Fic Collection
by Les Dowich
Summary: I belong to the BeST. We are an international group of writers and editors who met over the Internet and have not looked back. Zarathustra is an American writer. Nathan is an accredited editor and terific Beta. Eleanore is an editor par excellence.
1. Chapter 1

This story was written in response to the Fiction Alley 2007 fan-fiction challenge series - March Challenge. It was written by a team of writers called BeST; also known for their Betaing prowess. The team is made up of two writers and two grammarians – one American, the other British and PI accredited, who lives in Germany. The Authors are Les Dowich from Australia and Zarathustra from America. We ask that you read and enjoy!

**The Switch-Up**

**Prompt:** **Gideon Prewett gave Gregory's Unctuous Unction to Professor Grubbly-Plank**

**Rating: PG**

Gideon Prewett opened his eyes to bright sunlight coming in through the cracks between the deep-red velvet curtains hanging around his four-poster, and smiled. Today was the start of his third year at Hogwarts! He yawned and stretched, then rolled quickly out of bed to start the day.

Downstairs in the common room he ran into his older brother Fabian, a wiry red-headed fourth-year; together, they tumbled out of the Fat Lady's portrait-hole and headed down to breakfast.

"What do you have for first period, little bro?" Fabian asked, as they loaded their plates.

Gideon looked at his timetable that he had just received from his new Head of House, Professor McGonagall. "Ahhh, Care of Magical Creatures with Professor Grubbly-Plank – she's that new one introduced last night at the feast." Gideon smiled, as he remembered the young woman who had stood at the introduction. Very pretty.

"Good luck!" mumbled his brother. Fabian was not fond of magical creatures and had chosen Muggle Studies instead.

Gideon trudged down to the caretaker's cottage where the CoMC class was being held. This was a mixed-house class, so there was a bit of pushing and shoving among the Gryffindors and Slytherins as they gathered around a table. Everyone fell silent when Professor Grubbly-Plank appeared and began the class on Bowtruckles.

Gideon just stared. His head had soared when she had walked over to the table. When she started checking on the pairs of students doing their sketches, he thought he would pass out from his heart beating so fast as she bent over his shoulder. He just knew it; he was in love!

When the class was over, he delayed as much as possible. Every week for a month, he stayed behind to help, just to be close to her. She simply had to see what a good catch he was – wasn't he taller than her already, with muscles built up from a year as a beater? He tried talking to her, but for some reason he always stumbled over his tongue and the words never came out right.

o00o

Fabian Prewett glanced at the gargoyle and sighed. During his four years at Hogwarts, Mister Prewett had been a regular visitor to the Headmaster's office. Could he help it if he was interested in _everything_? How could he know that Mega-morphing Solution became volatile if the fumes were kept enclosed? The Slytherin Quidditch team had certainly jumped when their lockers exploded. He was consoling himself with remembered hilarity when angry voices sounded from behind the gargoyle. The wiry boy faded back behind a suit of armour and peered out curiously.

A tall, well-dressed man swept past his hiding place, then turned to snarl at the Headmaster who was poised on the bottom step. "You will sincerely regret refusing my offer, I promise you!"

"Now, Tom…"

"Enough!" The man turned to stride away, angrily.

Fabian held his breath as the visitor charged past the armour's niche, his colour high, until he almost ran over his cousin Vincent Goyle, lumbering in the other direction. Knowing Goyle, Fabian expected him to bull through, but the bulky seventh-year stopped dead and stammered; then, much to Fabian's shock, dropped to one knee and bowed his head with a strangled "My Lord, forgive me". The bump of curiosity that was often Fabian's downfall began to sting and prod at him insistently. Who the hell was that and what had he to do with Goyle? Was he, as the rumours flying about the wizarding world hinted, the new Grindelwald?

A million questions, answers, schemes and scenarios flashed through Prewett's fertile mind as he stood frozen in the alcove, each discarded until he realised this was the perfect opportunity to test out the potion he had been toying with. If he wanted information, then Gregory's Unctuous Unction held the key. He was really pleased to have a reason to try it.

"Mr Prewett." The Headmaster's voice cut through his ecstatic daydreams and reality bit.

o00o

For Gideon, his feelings came to a head when the Quidditch coach, Madam Hooch, came over to the hut after class. Gideon could tell that there was something going on between these two women.

That evening, after a detention with Slughorn for exploding his Shrinking Solution, Gideon slammed his way into the Gryffindor common room, throwing his bag down on the floor and himself onto the couch next to Fabian.

"Bad day?" asked Fabian, brooding over what he had seen at the Headmaster's office.

"You have no idea." He looked over at his brother. "Hey, you're the potions king – can you make a love potion?"

"Yeah, why?" he said, a bit startled.

"Let me tell you about… _HER!_"

oo0oo

The Room of Requirement was brilliant, the perfect hide-away for Fabian. True, Sluggie was good, but he did not encourage them to experiment. Here in the hidden room, Fabian could make what he liked, including Gregory's Unctuous Unction. He bought a box of Honeydukes Strawberry Crèmes and carefully added the potion. Goyle's sweet tooth was legendary; if Goyle saw him carrying the box he would be unable to resist - then he would be Fabian's instant best friend. It was foolproof!

Beside his box of chocolates was a second box belonging to Gideon who had developed a serious crush on someone, although he wouldn't say who. In a fit of generosity, Fabian had agreed to make a love potion for the squirt and had told him to get some Crème centres, too. Oh well, Gideon's doctored chocolates were on the left, so all was well and good. Fabian closed the door behind him and rubbed his hands together. Roll on, tomorrow!

oo0oo

Gideon entered the Room of Requirement and headed for Fabian's workbench. "Now where did he say… Oh, yeah, on the left…" He stared at the two boxes and shrugging, grabbed the one closest to him – they looked the same.

After class, he waited to escort the professor back up to the castle for lunch, and even led her to her seat at the head table.

"Professor, I thought you might like these chocolates; they're from Honeydukes."

"Why, thank you, Mr Prewett. I'm sure they are lovely – I'll save them for later, shall I?" She set the box next to her place setting, and Gideon went back to his table, feeling as if he was walking on air.

oo0oo

Fabian watched Gideon approach Grubbly-Plank and hand her the chocolates - the idiot had a crush on a teacher! Fabian's box was hidden under a spell that only revealed it to Goyle. He knew the Slytherin had seen them when he almost burned a hole in the box with his stare. So predictable!

Fabian let the rest of Gryffindor house go ahead of him before leaving the Great Hall. As planned, Goyle was waiting for him, a couple of cronies at his back.

"What you got, little cousin?" Goyle rumbled as Monkhouse grabbed his arms from behind. Wrapping a meaty arm around Fabian's neck, Goyle plucked the box from his grasp with the other. "Honeydukes? You shouldn't have!" He laughed, opening the chocolates with one hand. Fabian watched, triumphantly, as three of the sweets were crammed into Goyle's gaping maw.

A triple dose of potion would have knocked anyone else over.

Goyle stiffened, almost choking his cousin, then let out a gasp of horror. "My God! Fabian, love! Have I hurt you? Speak to me, _please_, honey!"

Monkhouse let go in shock, and Fabian staggered as meaty arms clasped him to a broad, surprisingly muscular chest. Fabian let out a strangled squawk of horror and slithered free, leaving his robe behind as he fled for his life, a lovesick, determined Goyle hard on his heels.

"Gideon, I will _kill_ you!" Fabian vowed as he bolted.

oo0oo

Wilhemina sighed as she set the box of chocolates down on the table and went to answer the knock at her door.

"Rolly! C'mon in," she said as she ushered Hooch into her cottage. Rolanda eyed the chocolates on the table.

"Chocolates?"

Wilhemina waved her hand at them. "Help yourself, they're from Mr Prewett – not fond of them myself."

Rolanda plucked out a couple and popped them in her mouth. "I really came to discuss the Crups," she said as she chewed. She looked over at Wilhemina. "You know, Willy, I was just realising how much we have in common – this business of raising Crups is just the best thing for the two of us to do together, don't you think so?"

Wilhemina looked startled for a moment, then smiled. If she was truthful with herself, she had a definite crush on the older woman and welcomed the chance to go into business with her. It looked like Rolly felt the same way. This day was turning out better than she could have dared imagine!

**End**


	2. Bungle In The Jungle

This story was written in response to the Fiction Alley 2007 fan-fiction challenge series - April Fools Challenge. It was written by a team of writers called BeST; also known for their Betaing prowess. The team is made up of two writers and two grammarians – one American, the other British and PI accredited, who lives in Germany. The Authors are Les Dowich from Australia and Zarathustra from America. We ask that you read and enjoy!

**Title: ****Bungle in the Jungle**

**Prompt: Tom Riddle got lost in the jungle with Captain Kirk.**

**Disclaimer: This story contains characters not only from the Harry Potter universe, but the original Star Trek 1965-1967 series and is not intended to infringe on any copyrights in either universe.**

The cool dimness of the Albanian forests took on a deathly silence. Something unnatural and utterly evil was hunting. The rat paused to survey the canopy until it spotted a grey squirrel foraging for nuts. The concentrated evil that was Tom Riddle, or Lord Voldemort, detached itself from the small rodent soul and flung itself at the unsuspecting squirrel, its spirit-hooks spread wide to bury deep into the small consciousness it had targeted. Then horror… A disembodied shriek of rage and terror faded from even the subconscious as the forest slowly came back to life.

oo0oo

James Kirk brightened as he saw his second-in-command waiting for him at the hallway juncture ahead. He felt Doctor McCoy quicken his step as he, too, saw the dour Vulcan.

"Well, Mr Spock, are you ready for shore leave?" the Captain asked. "I am told the planet below is lovely, with fresh air…"

"Captain, I was merely going to escort you and the doctor to the transporter room. As you know, I never voluntarily take shore leave," he said in a matter-of-fact tone as he paced beside his superior officer, hands clasped behind his back.

Spock snuck a sideways look at Doctor McCoy and noted a look of -- dare he think it? -- _glee_ in the man's eyes!

"Mr Spock," the physician said, mirth infiltrating his voice, "according to Star Fleet Regulation 122, Section five, paragraph…"

"…six, all Starfleet personnel must take shore leave every ninety days," Spock finished. "Your point, Doctor?"

"You are overdue and I am insisting!" McCoy crossed his arms in front of his chest in mock seriousness, although the smile on his face belied that fact.

Spock sighed. "If you insist!" he acceded.

"Perhaps you can wear the Hawaiian shirt Doctor McCoy gave you for Christmas," Kirk teased.

Spock's left eyebrow rose as _he_crossed his arms.

'_Wish I could do that!_' Kirk mused, a faint smile colouring his expression as they entered the transporter room. '_If I didn't know that he was Vulcan, I'd swear he practiced in a mirror to get just the right haughtiness._'

Kirk, Spock, McCoy and two red-uniformed security personnel stepped onto the transporter platform ready to beam down. Mr Scott nodded as he programmed the coordinates and beamed them to the planet below. Montgomery Scott's instinct suddenly froze his hand on the controls, then he continued with the transport as no alarm sounded. The blip had been so quick that he assumed it might have been his imagination . . . or his paranoia acting up.

oo0oo

Ensign Uttson stumbled as they materialised on the lush green world they called the Shore Leave Planet. Tom Riddle gasped and blinked the eyes of his new host, realising he had hooked a human! Going from small rodents to an individual's body was rather disorienting; he knew he had to move his host away from the others while he 'settled in'.

The host was amenable, staring about the light forest in obedience to Voldemort's commands. Once free from observation, Tom Riddle firmed his hold and readied the man for a small spell but could not find his wand. A hint of panic entered his thoughts, as he wasn't good with wandless magic. Instead, his questing fingers found an oddly-shaped Muggle device, and his host's memories showed him how to use the 'phaser'. There was a dial for different effects, which, the host seemed to feel, needed a sentient being to show up the true potential. The 'stun' setting did very little to a tree but caused the other guard to lose consciousness.

A trill made Voldemort jump, but his host stabbed a hand down to his belt and pulled out the thing he named 'communicator'. It requested he 'check in'. Voldemort studied the thing in baffled silence, his phaser idly blazing away, forgotten in his hand. He was still trying to understand what the host was supposed to do when a voice spoke from behind him.

"Ensign, why are you blasting that bush?"

Mr Spock, always alert to aberrant behaviour, had noticed the Ensign. Spock ducked as a swathe of fire almost carved him in two, then pinched the nerve in Uttson's neck. As Spock wrapped an arm around the young man's shoulders, something coiled out of Uttson's forehead and burrowed into Spock's conscious mind, taking control of him.

Voldemort was not pleased at the change of venue, especially as it was involuntary. His last host had had such delicious predatory thoughts still to be explored. Then he felt his new host rebel, trying a very strange type of Legilimency to find him. Pleased, Tom dove deeper into the mind seeing the oddly built barriers and taboos that were walled away, plucking at them to find out what they contained. Laughter, anger, fear -- emotions rigidly controlled -- and Voldemort sniggered as he released them all.

Spock foamed and twitched, writhing in the dirt as he fought the organism in his mind for control of his body. The alien presence was malicious and dangerous, attempting to take over his mind. It laughed and thought this was better than _Crucio_ before it seemed to writhe and depart.

Doctor McCoy and Janice Rand were strolling through the woods when they spotted Mr Spock having an epileptic fit. McCoy whipped out his tricorder and immediately scanned the helpless Vulcan, as the Yeoman bent down to check on the Commander, placing a hand on his forehead. Better safe than sorry, McCoy pressed a hypospray of sedative against Spock's neck and the Vulcan went limp. Janice screamed reflexively, then screamed again as something slammed into her mind, making her almost swallow her tongue as she felt instantly drunk. To her horror, her hands came up to weigh her breasts, then crawl all over herself, testing and checking.

'_No! Or… Yes! Female, by the feel of it and…'_ To his dazed horror, Voldemort felt a giggle coming on as he staggered. He slapped a hand over his host's mouth to stifle it but instead gave a little skip, then a bigger one, his rather pneumatic frontal assets cantilevering, dragging the skin of his upper torso down, then bouncing back to whack himself in the face. His hand squelched his nose when another equally horrifying and impossible sensation hit. Bodily functions! He needed to… but with what? He screamed again as he attempted to discover a way out of the tunic and attached knickers she was wearing.

McCoy stared, flabbergasted, as Janice began to try and remove her clothes in a frantic scrabble, muttering about 'impossible peas'. There was something very wrong – but interesting - about the young woman's stripping, her voice cursing in Latin, then giggling madly about lack of proper plumbing. He was still fumbling out another tranquiliser when the Captain hurried over. Janice flung her arms around his neck and began kissing him wildly.

Kirk couldn't believe what was happening! He tried pushing her away – she was his Yeoman, this wasn't proper Starfleet behaviour! But she resisted his efforts. Even as Janice wriggled against him, something followed the path of her tongue and drilled into Kirk's brain with a cry of _'a real mind'_. Kirk felt instantly drunk as the entity drove through his brain, plucking incidents and emotions at random. His body tossed Janice aside, while he noted, cynically, that she ran off crying rather than making an effort to resist, the Hufflepuff!

'_Prettier and perkier than Bella any day,_' the entity thought, then spotted Spock slowly climbing to his feet. '_Well, things are certainly looking up! I always preferred brunettes, especially males._' To Kirk's helpless horror, he realised his hand was about to perform an unforgivable, but Doctor McCoy saved his dignity with a well-placed hypospray. The entity in Kirk's head wailed in fury as it was slowly driven out of his mind and coalesced above in a fine, dirty mist of particles. It darted toward McCoy but a touch of the phaser beam drove it back into the centre of the circle until Ensign Uttson contacted Mr Scott. The particles glowed as the matter stream engulfed them but, when Mr Scott terminated the transport inside a containment field, there was nothing there.

oo0oo

"The ion cloud the beam passed through on the way down to the planet seemed to have gathered the cloud entity, but as the beam came back, the entity was again deposited into the cloud and lost," Mr Scott reported to the Captain later that afternoon.

"I think we can put this incident down to a learning curve and call it case closed," Kirk decided with a shudder.

oo0oo

Tom Riddle slammed down again into another consciousness and immediately felt the difference. This was a real mind, a wizarding mind, a weak and useful mind. This was a Quirrell, not a squirrel, it had a real wand, and…

"Oh Merlin, why me?" Tom Riddle asked, looking for a convenient tree as his new body's functions kicked in!

**End**

**Authors notes:** The title for this piece was taken from the Jethro Tull song of the same name.

**"Bungle In The Jungle"**

Walking through forests of palm tree apartments --  
scoff at the monkeys who live in their dark tents  
down by the waterhole -- drunk every Friday --  
eating their nuts -- saving their raisins for Sunday.  
Lions and tigers who wait in the shadows --  
they're fast but they're lazy, and sleep in green meadows.

Let's bungle in the jungle -- well, that's all right by me.  
I'm a tiger when I want love,  
but I'm a snake if we disagree.

Just say a word and the boys will be right there:  
with claws at your back to send a chill through the night air.  
Is it so frightening to have me at your shoulder?  
Thunder and lightning couldn't be bolder.  
I'll write on your tombstone, I thank you for dinner.''  
This game that we animals play is a winner.

Let's bungle in the jungle -- well, that's all right by me.  
I'm a tiger when I want love,  
but I'm a snake if we disagree.

The rivers are full of crocodile nasties  
and He who made kittens put snakes in the grass.  
He's a lover of life but a player of pawns --  
yes, the King on His sunset lies waiting for dawn  
to light up His Jungle  
as play is resumed.  
The monkeys seem willing to strike up the tune.


	3. Cornelius

This story was written in response to the Fiction Alley 2007 fan-fiction challenge series - May Challenge. It was written by a team of writers called BeST; also known for their Betaing prowess. The team is made up of two writers and two grammarians – one American, the other British and PI accredited, who lives in Germany. The Authors are Les Dowich from Australia and Zarathustra from America. We ask that you read and enjoy!

And we will also say now: Yes we know Ravenclaw's wand is totally AU now. Hey, it was as good a guess as any, prior to 7-21!

**Title: ****In Vino Veritas**

**Prompt: Cornelius Fudge bought Dandelion Wine from Harry Potter**

**Rating: PG**

He was going to do it! He had taken all he was going to take, the sly looks and sudden silences when he entered the room. The last straw was the patronising air that prig, Percy Weasley, adopted every time they had to interact. Did he forget where he came from? Who he owed his position to? And now that – _Bootlicker_ - had invited him to dinner at the Ministry, as if conferring an honour! The colourful pamphlet in his hand crackled suggestively as his fingers balled into fists.

Still, all good dinner guests brought wine, didn't they? And if that wine did not quite agree with the host, then it was not the innocent guest's fault, now was it? Sniggering to himself, Cornelius ran his eyes down the list of new products available from WWW, the sparkling bottle of pale yellow Dandelion wine calling his name in seductive tones. Perfect!

oo0oo

The brass bell over the door tinkled as another customer pushed into the crowded, colourful confines of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, smells assaulting the senses from all sides. Harry glanced up at Forge, who was nodding over a copy of the _Daily Prophet_, and shook his head as he pushed himself to his feet and slouched out to see who had come in. The twins had agreed to let him have a few days of 'normal life' serving at the counter in their Diagon Alley shop, while Ron and Hermione did some much needed research before the trio headed out again on the next leg of their Horcrux hunt.

At first he could not see anyone in the shop until he noticed movement over by the window, a silhouette outlined against the weak summer sunshine. The customer seemed to be looking at something across the street. Harry frowned; the only thing across the street was Ollivander's shop. Taking a deep breath, Harry asked if he could be of help, the figure's shoulders twitching for a moment.

"It seems such a shame that Ollivanders is all boarded up like that. So many purchased their first wands there, have done for centuries, you know." The man heaved a large sigh, then started up again. "The first Ollivander made the wands for the original founders of Hogwarts, according to Orgenius. He even had Rowena Ravenclaw's own wand in the window for a while." The figure turned and both speaker and listener gasped as they recognised each other in that instant.

"Potter!"

"Mr Fudge," Harry replied in controlled tones. "How can I help you today?"

"_You_ help _me_?" Cornelius asked, surprised. "Why would you help me?"

"I am assisting the Weasley twins in the shop this week and you are a customer," Harry stated the obvious, keeping his tone pleasant by a dint of effort.

"Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived serving in a joke shop," Fudge mused, his lip curling derisively at his perceived irony of the situation. "Very well, I want a bottle of Dandelion Wine. Is it any good?"

"Of course it is, Madam Rosmerta's finest," Harry said scornfully. '_Brewed in the back cellar of the Three Broomsticks, in a cast iron tub,_' he added gleefully in his thoughts. "Can I interest you in a tasting?" he asked formally.

"Only fools and philistines buy wine without taste testing," Fudge said loftily, making an airy gesture. "Bring me a sample."

Harry bowed slightly and only just stopped himself tugging his forelock in disgust as he backed away and disappeared behind the curtain that separated the workshop from the sales floor. "Hey Forge, have we got some Veritaserum? I need some, quickly!"

A long arm came out of the shadows and deposited a familiar tiny bottle in his hand as Gred stopped by his brother, identical grins of malicious delight lighting their faces. "Is little Harry-kins pissed at a punter?" one of them asked.

"Like you would not believe!" Harry muttered, quickly assembling a tray, a white cloth, a small wineglass and a dollop of potion into the clean glass before hurrying out again.

Fudge did not notice the slight dampness in the glass as he watched Harry uncork and pour a sample of the wine. With gloating glee, he mused that it was most gratifying to have one's position in the world reinforced by simple service, was it not? Taking the proffered glass, he made a production of sniffing and swirling, checking the bouquet and the colour before taking a healthy swig and rolling it around in his mouth. It wasn't bad, as far as Fudge could tell, not bad at all, in fact…. He finished the sample and nodded his approval as Harry topped it up again.

"So, Minister, is it true Ollivander had Rowena Ravenclaw's wand in his shop?" Harry asked carefully, keeping his head down as he waited for the answer.

"In the window actually, not marked, of course. Used to brag that a cored wand had been designed by Ravenclaw herself and that was why all his wands were cored, not like the inferior rubbish wizards from the continent had to use. A good quality wood with a reliable magical core did it every time. It was part of Ravenclaw's philosophy that a wand chose the wizard, but that's what happens when a Ravenclaw is in charge of something so important, don't you know. Intellectuals, heads in the clouds and so out of touch with the realities of a situation until it bites them on the arse. I shall miss Orgenius, despite him going a little peculiar toward the end there."

"Peculiar? How?" Harry prompted quietly, perhaps this was the information he needed for the next step in his journey. He waited for the ex-Minister's answer with anticipation.

"Oh, the old fool thought Ravenclaw's wand was possessed, said it seemed to talk to him every now and again. Then Tobias Langford tried to use it, managing to stab himself in the eye, although why he was playing with it in the first place was a mystery. '_A malicious act of a possessed and daemonic tool_', Orgenius said at the Leaky Cauldron a couple of days before he left." Fudge drifted off and took another swig of the wine.

"What else did he say about it?"

"Foolish talk of Hor-_hic_-cruxes and soul fragments, things of Dark Magic, silly old fart." He stared blearily at Harry, trying to focus on the teen. "Said You-Know-Who had stolen the wand and did something terrible to it before the Aurors recovered it from Knockturn Alley, as if –_hic_- such a thing was possible." He snorted into his glass before taking another swig.

"Why isn't it possible?" Harry asked, curiously.

"No such thing as You-Know-Who!" Fudge spluttered loudly, starting to go purple in the face. Harry thought the man might give Uncle Vernon a run for his money. "Foolish, scaremongering, bloody Harry Potter! Rude boy ... liar ... needs to be punished for his insolence, damn his – _hic_ - eyes!"

Harry ducked the wildly flailing arm as Fred and George poked their heads around the curtains to watch the ex-Minister's antics. They shook their heads and grinned at Harry who was having a hard time believing what the Minister had just told him, even if he was Veritaserumed and incapable of lying.

"How much did you give him, Harry?" Fred whispered with lively curiosity.

"Er, about a quarter inch in the bottom of the glass," Harry mumbled.

"Ah, that would explain it…"

"…overdosed to the max…"

"…and giggly as a girl…"

"Good one, Harry! What did he want -- "

"-- the wine for?"

"He didn't say…" Harry started to explain.

"Dinner with your prat of a brother," Fudge answered truthfully, his choler beginning to even out as he calmed down.

The twins exchanged long, knowing looks and disappeared for a few moments before reappearing with a gift-wrapped bottle, which one of them presented ceremoniously to the former Minister. "With our compliments," the other said gleefully.

Nodding regally, Fudge took the bottle as if it was his right and exited the shop with his head held high, his hat askew, and leaving behind a puzzled young man and two very satisfied pranksters.

"I thought the wine was just a base for prank potions," Harry said, puzzled.

"It is," Forge assured him, high-fiving his twin, and grinning at Harry's puzzled look. "Since you were having such success with Fudge, we simply added Veritaserum to the whole _bottle_," George explained further.

"His dinner with Percy will be a very, er, _honest_, one!" Fred said, laughing.

"Oh, to be a fly on that wall!" The twins fell on each other's shoulders, cackling insanely.

Rolling his eyes, Harry folded up the towel neatly, and went to find Ron and Hermione. They had some work to do -- a wand maker and wand to find. This had been a very profitable stint in the joke shop. He only hoped all his leads would come this easily!

**End**


	4. A Very Slytherin Solution

This story was written in response to the Fiction Alley 2007 fan-fiction challenge series - June Weddings. It was written by a team of writers called BeST; also known for their Betaing prowess. The team is made up of two writers and two grammarians – one American, the other British and PI accredited, who lives in Authors are Les Dowich from Australia and Zarathustra from America. We ask that you read and enjoy!

**A Slytherin Arrangement**

**Prompt: Professor Sinistra married Slughorn in a lovely wedding.**

**Rating: G**

Aurora Sinistra stood atop the Astronomy Tower, feet planted wide, head tossed back, clipboard in hand. She blinked and blinked again, the familiar constellations fading in and out of her diminishing sight. A tiny whimper of loss broke out as she slumped; too many hours at the telescope and reading tiny star maps had ruined her eyesight. Why now, when she was so close to securing her place in posterity! Why now? There had to be a way!

oo0oo

Horace Slughorn stared down into the cauldron and licked his lips in anticipation. Only one more step and he would have succeeded, finally, gloriously, and immemorially! His chubby hand groped behind him and came up empty, a few lone crystals of sugar left in a corner of the tin; the final remains of his pineapple supply. He pouted then collapsed. How was he supposed to function now? Oh, Dumbledore had his lemon drops - as common as muck - but Horace had to fixate on pineapple, crystallised pineapple at that, for his continuing use of magic at a useful level. If he was to survive as one of the best Potions masters in the world and keep his hold over his wide circle of contacts, he needed his pineapple fix desperately.

An owl flew in at the window and shook its leg impatiently. Ah, the final step for their potion that would cure wizard kind from failing ocular acuity forever! Master Zamintia Nordestrom had finally come through with the last, key research! He tore into the letter eagerly, then let out a howl of outrage, enough to scare the post owl away and raise an echoing howl from the Forbidden Forest. Apparently, bachelors were not stable enough to handle the ensuing furore that the completion of this potion would engender. So, he needed a wife; to be cosily married before the old _fool_ would send the details, as a wedding present. Horace broke down in defeat, grandiose plans tinkling in fragments around him.

oo0oo

The Great Hall was almost deserted when Aurora stumped in, tossing herself down in her seat. She noticed Horace Slughorn slumped in his seat, an overturned bottle near his hand. Interesting. He was muttering to himself, a constant litany of complaints and self-pitying grumbles, slurred and indistinct until Aurora picked up the word 'eyesight failing' and 'potion to recover it'. Her ears pricked up and she listened attentively while she carefully poured coffee and pretended not to notice. 'Marriage', 'misogynistic old fools' and 'no pineapple' also featured in the Potion master's subdued rant. Aurora had not been sorted into Slytherin for nothing and she instantly added these unguarded mutterings to the other facts and rumours she had picked up over the last few days. Perhaps … perhaps! A worthy smirk twisted her face as she quietly exited the hall, not realising a pair of very clear and calculating brown eyes followed her progress. Slughorn had not been sorted into Slytherin for nothing, either, and Aurora was a handsome woman

oo0oo

The 'Ua'u circled down and landed near Aurora Sinistra, a package clutched firmly in its claws. She gave the bird a piece of fruit and opened the package carefully making sure she had someone's certain attention as she held the thing up for closer inspection, the stylised pineapple on the gaudy lid clearly visible to interested parties. Sighing, she set it down above her plate and continued to eat her breakfast, ignoring the build up of speculation in the Great Hall.

Horace sidled over at the conclusion of the meal and tapped the box with a pudgy finger. "These people make only the very best of the crystallised pineapple, you know?" he remarked winningly.

Aurora cast the box a disinterested look. "Cousin Howie is trying to get me to part with the family secret recipe. He is only a paternal cousin and is not allowed to have it, only the female line is; Polynesian magic, you know? I have it and he wants it so it makes for interesting family gatherings, believe me!" She laughed softly, sounding almost evil, and Horace grinned. "You are an expert on pineapple, Horace. Here, try this lot and see if he has managed to get even close this time." She thrust the box into his hands and left him with his prize.

oo0oo

Horace stared down into the now-empty pineapple box and sighed deeply. The product had been good - not great - but it had eased him over the blow of Nordestrom's failure to share his research. If Horace wanted to gain his place in posterity, he was going to have to deal with Sinistra, but what did he have to bribe her with? He was going to have to do some research on Aurora Sinistra, witch and holder of the precious pineapple recipe!

It was difficult to follow her habits as she was almost nocturnal, thanks to her profession, but he managed to find out quite a lot about her personal life; only daughter, last female of her line, heiress to the almost legendary sacred plantations on the steep volcanic slopes of Ouahu. If she didn't have a daughter, then she would lose control of the plantations and the secret, and her cousin's daughter would win. Perhaps, it was enough.

oo0oo

"So you are saying that, if I marry you, I can have a daughter and thus secure my inheritance for yet another generation," Aurora reiterated. "But I really don't care about the pineapple plantation or the recipe; I don't even like crystallised pineapple!"

He was so scandalised he nearly fell off his chair in shock. "Don't care? But, but, but it's the food of the gods!" The words were almost forced out involuntarily.

"No, I'm sorry, Horace, much as I like you, it's not something I would actually…"

"Wait! I have a potion…" he blurted out, then settled himself as she paused in her rising. "I am developing a potion that will help with eyesight, making weak eyes new again, for the Boy-Who-Lived, you know. Does first testing of that potion interest you?" he asked softly, watching the rather handsome woman purse her lips in thought.

"I'll want everything in writing," she said, sitting back down to begin their negotiations in earnest.

oo0oo

The Great Hall was bedecked, the wedding of two professors bringing forth the house-elves' best efforts. The guests were milling around and eyeing each other over the canapés with distrustful eyes; the small chamber orchestra was tuning up in the corner, while Horace grinned expansively, rocking on his toes in satisfaction. Zamintia Nordestrom had given him an elaborately beribboned scroll for his wedding present containing his research and his best wishes for a comfortable, well organised life. His new bride, six inches taller than he, laid a protective hand over her still-flat abdomen and smiled toothily at the contingent of Hawaiian relatives who were shivering under the tyranny of the Scottish climate and wondering how their carefully laid plans for inheritance by default had just slipped away from between their fingers.

Aurora smiled graciously at the surrounding mass, her other hand lightly on her new groom's arm as the few students who had been invited looked a little green in one corner. There was a piece of parchment in her pocket, stating that her submission to the Royal College of Astronomers had been accepted and the new comet was to be called Aurora Zone One. Sluggy's potion, even in its incomplete form, was enough for her to finish the final calculations and plot her own private piece of heaven.

Professor Flitwick raised his handkerchief to dab his eyes, turning to Minerva with a watery smile. "It was a lovely wedding," he sniffled. "Such a handsome couple…"

Minerva nodded judiciously, but Snape raised a sceptical eyebrow, his arms crossing automatically across his chest. "Two Slytherins? Together?" he remarked with a derisive snort. Minerva nearly snorted her sherry at his comment and had to turn around to gaze at the now-dancing couple to keep Severus from seeing her amused smirk.

Two Slytherins indeed – she thought. Those two would be plotting rings around each other for the rest of their lives, and Aurora was already expecting! Merlin help the school when that child joined the student population. She sighed and sipped some more sherry before allowing Severus to lead her onto the dance floor in a respectable waltz.

**End**


	5. Prof Slughorn and an Excess of Seamus

This story was written in response to the Fiction Alley 2007 fan-fiction challenge series. It was written by a team of writers called BeST; also known for their Betaing prowess. The team is made up of two writers and two grammarians – one American, the other British and PI accredited, who lives in Germany. The Authors are Zarathustra from America and Les Dowich from Australia. We ask that you read and enjoy!

**Title: Professor Slughorn and An Excess of Seamus**

**Prompt: Professor Slughorn Spends Time in the Astronomy Tower with Seamus Finnegan**

Horace Slughorn had a secret, an obscure fact known only to a very few. He rubbed his pudgy hands together as he plotted the best way to implement this exciting tidbit of information to the best advantage of "Sluggy".

oo0oo

"Slughorn invited me to a meeting," Seamus remarked.

"No offence, Seamus, but what have you got that Slughorn wants?" Hermione said, lifting her head from the book in her lap, a gleam in her eye.

"His transfiguration skills?" Dean teased good-naturedly.

"Yeh never know. Me rum's as good as Ogden's." Seamus only exaggerated a little. After six years of effort, he had finally turned water into very acceptable rum.

"It might be, actually," Hermione contradicted with conviction. "Fine liquors appeal to Slughorn's tastes and vanity, I believe."

"You know, that might be true," Harry mused. "Okay, we'll go together, Seamus."

oo0oo

Slughorn swept down on the pair of Gryffindors. Harry braced himself, but Slughorn elbowed him out of the way to place a weighty arm around Seamus' shoulders and draw him aside. "My boy, come and meet Lionel Davenport. He is from the Department of Imports. My dear Lionel, here is Mr Finnegan; his mother was one of the Ballhallow Morgans."

"Really? Colleen, daughter of Connor Morgan?" Davenport asked with a growing interest.

"Aye, me Mum was a Morgan, and Granda's called Connor," Seamus admitted cautiously.

"Ah, and you would have been named for your Uncle Seamus," Davenport said almost playfully. "How is Seamus these days? I haven't seen him since the Dublin Accords Conference."

Seamus nodded and smiled, while he tried to remember what had happened at that Conference. He knew it had been very bad but he couldn't recall. Fortunately, Harry saw his desperate plea and came to rescue him, even allowing Seamus to push his 'Boy-Who-Lived' status when the man seemed determined to conduct what was becoming too much of an interrogation for Seamus' liking.

Professor Slughorn handed both boys glasses of pumpkin juice, waiting until they seemed to sip it before pinning Seamus with a sapient eye. "Mr Davenport here wants to meet with your uncle as soon as possible. Harry, you will use your influence to help Seamus organise a meeting."

Both boys nodded and left the meeting without looking back.

"What was that all about?" Harry asked as they escaped into the corridor. They still carried the pumpkin juice that had been thrust into their hands, but neither had actually drunk any. Seamus was about to really swig his off when Harry stopped him, the caution of experience making him wary. "We'll let Hermione have a look at this stuff before we drink it, okay?" he said flatly.

"I'll send an owl to me mum and find out what Uncle Seamus has been up to," Seamus replied grimly as they made their way back to the Gryffindor tower.

oo0oo

'_Astronomy Tower, 10pm Thursday._' The note was terse, but it made Slughorn smile widely as he crumpled the paper and carefully burned it up. This was going to be a very interesting meeting indeed.

oo0oo

"He took the bait," Dean muttered, as he passed his friends in the corridor. Seamus smiled tightly and let out a slow breath he hadn't realised he had been holding. When Hermione told them there was liquid _Imperius_ in the pumpkin juice he had been ready for a fight. The owl from his mother had made it clear that the information he was asking for was volatile and a follow-up Floo call from Hogsmeade had been enlightening.

oo0oo

Slughorn stopped a third of the way up the Astronomy Tower steps to wipe his forehead with a large silk handkerchief. If he had realised how much effort he was going to have to expend to secure his former student, Hepsazah Lowandorf, in the Department of Imports, he would have been less enthusiastic. Still, ensuring the pineapple flowed, regardless of the global conditions and tightening importation laws, was worth a little discomfort! Davenport had agreed to leave his agent alone if Seamus Morgan met with him. Using Finnegan to contact his uncle had been brilliant, although he was mildly curious as to why.

Davenport followed the struggling figure up the stairs, hidden under an Invisibility Cloak. The dupe had contacted Morgan, who might be the 'Don Ho' of the Dublin Crystallized Pineapple Mafia, but he was also the upstart half-blood who was threatening him.

How Morgan had found out Davenport was responsible for Agnes Bones' pregnancy was beyond him; no one had seen them slip away and he had threatened Bones with _Obliviate_ as soon as she had revealed her pregnancy. How was he to know she was related to Morgan or that she would jeopardise his other business? My God, crossing Morgan was tantamount to political and commercial suicide! So now Morgan had to be _Obliterated_, and he would never know what hit him!

oo0oo

"Are you sure you want to do this, Seamus?" Harry asked rhetorically.

"Yeah, he's been threatening my uncle and cousin and refusing his responsibilities. No one messes with our family," Seamus said harshly as he gulped the foul Polyjuice Potion Hermione had acquired for him. There had been no time to brew it.

Changing into his uncle wasn't hard, as he was very like his namesake. A set of good robes instead of his school robes and he was set to meet the wizard who was endangering his family. Harry nodded and slipped under his Invisibility cloak, ready to watch Seamus' back as footsteps sounded on the stairs and Sluggy rose into view.

"Ah, good, you're here," Slughorn exclaimed, rubbing his hands together happily.

"What's this all about?" Seamus demanded angrily.

Slughorn frowned. "Why, Mr Davenport asked me to arrange the meeting, but he seems to be a little late. I'm sure he will be here in a moment. He didn't tell me why he wanted to see you, so I asked your nephew to set up the meeting."

"Really? Backed by an _Imperius_ compulsion, no less," Seamus snarled. He was surprised to see shock written on the fat face before him.

"I would never…"

"No, the fat fool would never…," a voice said, and a wand and head appeared out of thin air. "But _I_would, Morgan. I told that stupid cousin of yours not to open her big mouth, but did she listen? '_You have to help me, Lionel; you know it's your child._' No offspring of mine would ever come out of a Mudblood! And then she threatened me with you!"

Harry could hear Seamus' teeth grind but before he could do anything, there was a disturbance and another copy of Seamus Morgan appeared as a _Disillusionment_ charm was finished.

"So you finally admit to seducing our cousin then?"

"Who the hell are you?" Sluggy demanded as Davenport stared at the two copies of Seamus.

"You used an Imperius Potion on Agnes, then seduced her; a helpless victim to your machinations." There was another ripple and yet another Seamus Morgan appeared!

"What the Hell is this? Damn you, Slughorn! How many people did you tell about this meeting?" Davenport demanded, glancing about wildly.

"Does it matter?" Harry asked, lowering his cloak and pointing his wand. "You tried Imperius Potion on Seamus and I, and we have proof of that. If Agnes says you did the same to her, then you are finished."

"Morgan will go down with me!" Davenport screeched. "Did he tell you he runs the Irish Mafia? Did he tell you how he smuggles werewolves in and out of Ireland? Bet he didn't tell you how he smuggles goods into England, but we've caught his agents!"

"Only those who could not produce the bribes you demanded. That was why you seduced my cousin in the first place; to make her look less credible when she testified against you!" Seamus snarled bitterly.

Slughorn's wand faltered between the three Seamus', unsure of where he stood. As they continued to screech, he realised his Pineapple connection was not in question. He finally chose a side, pointing his wand at Davenport, who didn't seem to realise he was badly outnumbered.

"Her big mouth, supported by your network, would destroy my blackmail and bribes ring completely, thus endangering my livelihood. I cannot allow that to happen, so I bid you adieu," Davenport said with a maniacal laugh, his wand moving.

Two _Expelliarmus_ and one bludger spell hit him before he could complete the movement, Slughorn's _Jelly Legs_ jinx going wide and Harry's _Petrificus Totalus_ probably saving Davenport's life as the bludger spell hit him on the head.

Slughorn stared at the three Seamus clones, demanding 'who the hell _are_you?' as a circle of broomsticks rose, each bearing a red-clad rider; the Aurors had arrived.

"Seamus Finnegan, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, actually," Harry announced smugly. "You didn't think we would let a friend down in a crunch, did you?"

**End**


	6. The Play is the Thing

This story was written in response to the Fiction Alley 2007 fan-fiction challenge series - August Challenge. It was written by a team of writers called BeST; also known for their Betaing prowess. The team is made up of two writers and two grammarians – one American, the other British and PI accredited, who lives in Germany. The Authors are Zarathustra from America and Les Dowich from Australia. We ask that you read and enjoy!

**Title:** **The Play is the thing…**

**Prompt: Professor McGonagall went to a Muggle movie with Sir Cadogan.**

Minerva McGonagall hurried along the frozen streets of London during the Christmas break of 2001. Due to a scheduled downtime of the Ministry's floo system for recalibration, everyone was forced to use the visitor's entrance to get into the Ministry.

Pulling her Muggle overcoat closer around her and muttering a warming charm under her breath, she hurried to the red call box that disguised the entrance. Just as she was getting ready to dial the access number, a bright poster plastered on a nearby wall caught her eye and caused her to place the receiver back in its cradle. She stepped out to examine the poster further, a deep curiosity stirring in her breast.

Taking in the somewhat familiar visages of three children and the legend 'Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone,' Minerva nearly had a heart attack! The dark-haired child looked nearly identical to Harry when he had first been sorted nearly ten years earlier! What was going on? Had the Muggles made a movie? How? _Why?_What plot was this she had discovered?

Abandoning her errand, she whipped around and headed back to the Apparition point at the Leaky Cauldron to return to Hogwarts.

Minerva wandered the empty halls of the august school muttering to herself. The portraits could only catch partial phrases of "…violations of the Secrecy Act!" " How did they discover about the stone?" "Who could have done this…?"

She was brought to a halt by a voice from a portrait near her elbow calling to her. "Pray, dear lady, what causes thy spirit such distress? Is there naught this knight can do to assist thee?" Sir Cadogan brandished his sword, causing his armour to rattle ominously and his horse to shy away from him. "Show me the knave and I'll run him through for thy favour!"

Minerva sighed, rolled her eyes, and turned to face the medieval knight-errant. "Someone has leaked the story of Harry Potter's first year here at school, and the Muggles have made a 'movie' of the whole affair!" She scowled off into the distance. "Who could have done this, Sir Cadogan?"

"A Quest!" He jumped up and down with glee. "You must go on a quest to discover the knave who doth threaten our world!" He pointed his sword at the locket pinned to her throat. "Open thy locket and place it against this painting and I shall assist and protect thee, Fair Maiden, on this most noble of missions!"

Minerva snorted at the 'Fair Maiden' line, but did as Sir Cadogan bid and let him jump into her locket.

"Where to now, fair lady?"

"Back to London I think, Sir Cadogan!" Transforming her robes into Muggle clothes once more, she set off to the sound of Sir Cadogan's muffled "Onward!"

After perusing the movie poster again ("Odd, they don't move, my lady. Why do they not move when the Muggles call this a 'movie', was it?") Minerva read that the movie was based on a series of books. "A series? There's more than one? Merlin preserve us!"

"The next step in our quest, dear lady, we must seek out these nefarious publications."

"That is the eternal dilemma, read the books or see the movie first?" she mused. "There is a cinema around the corner, Sir Cadogan; I think we should see that first. Afterwards, we can go to a Muggle bookseller." Decision made, she marched away to the cinema and after passing over some Muggle money, she received a bit of pasteboard and entered the theatre.

Blinking in the bright midwinter sunlight, Minerva could barely hold in her exasperation. The movie had been uncannily accurate, although Sir Cadogan kept making comments such as "Professor Snape never looked that handsome!" "They've got that part of the castle all wrong!" "That does resemble Sir Nick a bit…" "The Fat Lady…" "Have at him, young Master Potter!" At that, Minerva had shut the locket giving it a stern tapping with a hissed suggestion to be quiet. The Muggles who had turned around to stare at her were surprised to see no one else there, but the stern glance she shot at them caused them to whip back around, and hunker down in their seats.

She knew this part of London fairly well and remembered there was a large Muggle bookseller nearby. Throwing her shoulders back, she strode with purpose to Waterstone's bookshop, prepared to search as long as it took to find the incriminating books.

McGonagall was amazed at what she found – a whole section of the children's area was devoted to these Harry Potter books! After a brief discussion with the store clerk, she discovered that children and adults loved the books and recently had waited in line for the fourth instalment to come out. "They're causing children to read and dream, and adults to recapture their youth!" she had said. Minerva bought a set of the four that were published.

"Sir Cadogan," she murmured. "I smell magic at work here … we need to investigate this author. The clerk said she was signing books this afternoon in Edinburgh; let's go."

"But, of course! Forward we go!"

o00o

Minerva McGonagall sat in her rooms at Hogwarts, plaid dressing gown keeping her warm as she toasted her toes before the fire, bun taken down for the evening, nursing a small glass of firewhiskey.

"Ah, Albus," she addressed the empty room, "if only you knew how clever Miss Granger-Weasley truly is! She has taken memory charms to a whole new level." She chuckled to herself. "All those people reading about our world, loving it, and not realising it _is_ real. Very clever Muggle Liaison Device. And the author has no idea – just thinks the story fell from the sky right into her head whilst on a train ride! Amazing!" She sipped some more at the whisky, then opened the book on her lap and began to read:

'Mr and Mrs Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.…'


End file.
